


Café Noir

by quodpersortem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Derek wears too many clothes, Gen, He agrees with us, I use fic to bargain for other fanon items, M/M, Stiles can be an idiot, Stiles is an idiot to get Derek out of these clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:33:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/quodpersortem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book. For a moment, Stiles stands still in the middle of the room. It’s a little draughty inside—he probably couldn’t stand to live here, under these circumstances—but Derek seems at peace. He looks up once to acknowledge Stiles’ presence and a smile plays on his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Café Noir

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [lost-in-a-eternal-spiral](http://lost-in-a-eternal-spiral.tumblr.com/) because I requested a drawing, she wasn't sure she could do it, and I told her that I'd write a drabble if she _would_ draw it. [This](http://lost-in-a-eternal-spiral.tumblr.com/post/29303043649/i-apologize-so-much-for-how-badly-drawn-they-are) is her end result.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

The sun is setting by the time Stiles arrives at Derek’s place. He doesn’t need to knock, pushing the door opened will let Derek know he’s there.

Derek’s sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book. For a moment, Stiles stands still in the middle of the room. It’s a little draughty inside—he probably couldn’t stand to live here, under these circumstances—but Derek seems at peace. He looks up once to acknowledge Stiles’ presence and a smile plays on his mouth.

“There is still some coffee, you have to wash a mug first.”

Stiles nods. He first puts down his bag with his laptop, before heading over to the crates that have been stacked up. A portable stove has been placed on top of them—a makeshift kitchen. Water is supplied from the couple of bottles that are next to the crates. He swirls some of it around in the cup—Derek probably doesn’t have cooties, so he’s willing to take the risk of not using soap.

The can of coffee is held warm by an oven mitt pulled across it and Stiles takes it off.

He smells at the coffee—and promptly decides to put some sugar in. Then he turns back to Derek and makes his way to the couch.

Or at least, he tries to, because that’s when his legs decide to hinder him majorly. Before he can quite process what is happening, he is already falling, tumbling to the floor, and to protect himself he stretches out his arms and lets go of the cup.

He hears Derek roar—his wolf-roar—before he has time to recover, never mind getting up. Even from the awkward angle he’s at on the floor, he sees how Derek has grown fangs and claws, his eyes a blazing red.

“I’m sorry!” he says as he watches how Derek tries to get his sodden trousers off—and God, that must hurt, but Stiles is secretly glad it’s Derek who got it all over him rather than Stiles. Stiles isn’t the one with super werewolf healing powers after all.

“Jesus, Stiles,” Derek groans, slowly un-wolfing. “Watch it next time, will you?”

Stiles bites his lip to prevent himself from babbling as he nods. 

Derek has to sit down to undo his shoelaces, but then he kicks off his shoes and his jeans in one go. Stiles gets up in the same moment as Derek, causing another awkward moment when he stumbles a little again and has to hold on to Derek to not fall again. Derek looks at him a little grumpily, which would be funny if he’d been fully clothed but is hilarious now. Stiles is grateful he’s still biting his lips, or he’d have made a comment.

“Go clean the floor,” Derek tells him as he pries Stiles’ fingers off his arm (and yeah, Stiles totally forgot he was even holding Derek’s arm). Then he stalks off, presumably to put on some clean trousers.

Derek’s bum wiggles a little as he walks, the grey fabric of his underwear shifting across the no-doubt smooth skin underneath.

And Stiles can’t help himself then. He really, really can’t. So he calls out, “Nice butt! Maybe you should get spanked some time! Actually-”

Derek doesn’t look back, does nothing apart from growling to cut him short. No doubt he’ll give Stiles hell about that later.

Still. Stiles feels accomplished as he washes the floor and then makes some more coffee—a cup for himself because he fucking _deserves_ it and one for Derek to gain back some of his lost brownie points.


End file.
